


kindred soul, cracked spirit

by juxtaposed_cat



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Danger Kink, Frenemies with Benefits, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:30:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17088098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juxtaposed_cat/pseuds/juxtaposed_cat
Summary: Drifter gets to see firsthand how thirsty Shin gets when in danger.  The guy’s just a mess in general, but this particular kink of his is just as Hunter as it gets.





	kindred soul, cracked spirit

**Author's Note:**

> danger kinks are hunter culture. (title is from numb by sia)

When Drifter’s in a bind and needs someone’s help quick to run an errand, it’s somewhat concerning that Shin Malphur’s one of his first choices.

This time, Drifter needed information from Spider, but Spider wouldn’t provide until a threat to his authority was eliminated.  A Fallen target; no Baron or aspiring Kell, but someone troublesome nonetheless, and someone in the way of vital information.

So, Drifter called Shin up through their seldom-used fireteam channel, testing the waters with a friendly “Hey, brother. Whatcha up to?”

Radio silence met his greeting for a few seconds.  Then he heard the comms come to life as Shin tapped in but said nothing.

“You busy? I need your help with somethin’.”

How he managed to convince Shin to help _him_ was a mystery of its own—but that’s how the two of them found themselves gearing up to break into some defunct, rusting Ketch in search of a House of Dusk Marauder with far too much power.  Drifter figured this would be an easy in-and-out job; the guy wasn’t expecting to be offed, and judging by the exterior and immediate interior of the run-down Ketch, he couldn’t possibly put up enough of a fight to threaten him and Shin together. 

“You owe me,” Shin grumbled.  He adjusted the sniper rifle slung across his back, drew his signature cannon.  “Let’s get this over with.”

 

The Ketch is eerily silent as they make their way through, and empty enough that Drifter begins to suspect that Spider gave them a shitty lead.  It doesn’t look like much works here, and the parts that do don’t seem to work well—the doors are rusted shut, partially open, or have been barricaded or blasted through.  Although it seems like this fucked ship might be the ideal hideout for a Fallen on the run, not a single (living) Eliksni has presented themselves to the two of them.  The first dark space they go through turns out to be just as empty as the hallways, and the second is illuminated only by the flickering purple eye of a dying Servitor.

It’s only when Drifter starts to wonder what the hell happened on this Ketch that a properly functioning door opens to the third area they’ve seen, lit up by the purplish-blue light of the Tangled Shore filtering in through the holes in the ceiling.

Before they go in, Shin says, “I don’t like this,” and he’s waved off.  “Have you _seen_ this Ketch? Ain’t nobody here—‘cept the fucker we’re here to kill,” Drifter snaps, and he can just imagine the look on Shin’s face when he scoffs, but follows Drifter inside anyway.

The open area’s just as quiet as the rest of the Ketch.  But the moment they cross the threshold into the room, they hear cloaking devices activate and the door locks behind them.  All at once, several wire rifle shots ring out and probably would’ve taken Drifter’s head off if Shin hadn’t shoved him outta the way.  As Fallen pour into the room, Drifter figures it’s just his fuckin’ luck.

It’s a fuckin’ ambush, Drifter thinks bitterly as he and Shin run for the nearest cover.  A fuckin’ ambush, and they’re horribly outnumbered and unprepared.  The target might as well have about an entire House’s worth of Fallen holed up here, with the number of Arc bullets frying his shields and the edges of his coat.  Shin’s not faring much better—Drifter hears him get a sniper shot off before he hears his armor’s shields drop.

Behind cover, Drifter readies his Trust and starts taking the first of many shots at the Fallen nearest him.  Thankfully, Shin doesn’t say _I told you so_ over comms—‘cause if he did, Drifter might’ve had to kill him.

After what feels like hours of shooting, they’re running low on ammo and the Fallen aren’t showing much of a sign of thinning out.  It’d be his damn luck that a quick errand turns into a shootout.  Just as he thinks it can’t get any worse, Shin’s voice cuts out of comms just as a Walker drops from the ceiling right where Drifter last saw him.  There’s a moment of radio silence where Drifter thinks the Walker might’ve crushed him, but then Drifter sees Shin activate his Golden Gun and sprint across the open area, taking out a leg of the Walker before sliding into cover beside him.

Drifter doesn’t get a good look at Shin before he starts shooting again, but he definitely wasn’t lookin’ too hot.  He glances over as he takes cover to reload, a little surprised to see that Shin still isn’t shooting.  His helmet’s on, so he can’t tell if Shin’s looking at him, but with the way his head is slightly angled toward him, Drifter assumes he is.

“Hell’re you doin’, Malphur? You see all the fuckers we got out there?” Drifter snaps, irritated, taking out a couple more snipers lining the upper levels of the open area with his scout rifle.  Before he ducks to reload, he catches sight of the target, dodging to avoid getting into Drifter’s sights.  He doesn’t wait for a response from Shin to add, “Target’s up in the rafters.”

Drifter spares another fleeting look at Shin, and now he’s reloading his sniper, positioning himself to take a shot.  Drifter works on downing another leg of the Walker so Shin can get a cleaner shot.

Once Drifter manages to down the Walker for a second time, all Shin needs is one shot, and Ether spews from the target’s rebreather as Shin’s bullet rips through his head.  All at once, they can both practically _feel_ the rage of the remaining Fallen, and Shin grabs Drifter’s arm to drag him out of there before they’re rushed by dozens of pissed Eliksni.

 

“This way,” directs Shin over comms.  He’s taking them a different way than they first came through, but Drifter isn’t particularly concerned that Shin’s gonna get them lost.  Just a little irritated at the whole situation and a little high on that fighting adrenaline.

“How the hell d’you know—"

“Ghost mapped some of the Ketch.”  It’s only now that Drifter notices the edge to and the rasp in Shin’s voice.  His words are short, clipped.  And as Shin leads them down corridor after corridor, until the sounds of Fallen chatter and gunfire are but sounds in the distance, Drifter doesn’t realize what the tension in Shin’s body means until he pulls Drifter down into some narrow service corridor and shoves him against the wall, helmet transmatted off as soon as they’d turned the corner.

For an instant, Drifter mistakes the wild look in Shin’s eyes as anger.  But the way Shin’s lips are parted and breathing’s ragged is telling on its own.  His eyes flit between Drifter’s eyes and lips.

“In a _mood_ , brother?” Drifter asks in a low, challenging tone, all but daring Shin to take what he wants.  He knows this game all too well—it’s the one they play every single time they fuck, the game where Drifter forces Shin to acknowledge that he wants it—wants _him_.  And it’s just delicious to watch Shin struggle.

“Distracted,” Shin responds, somewhat absently—is he agreeing with him?  They both smell like burning cloth and leather, like Ether and Arc.  Shin’s breathing is just as tense as the rest of his body, quick and shallow.

“I can tell. Couldn’t wait?” Drifter’s hand slides up to squeeze a handful of Shin’s ass, forcing an exhale through his teeth.  “I’m all for it,” Drifter whispers, and then pulls him in for a series of open-mouthed kisses.

Shin kisses him like he’s drowning—desperate, sloppy, no finesse—but somehow still so _angry_ —and the little sounds Shin makes against his lips really get him going.  Drifter puts a thigh between them for Shin to grind against and he does so eagerly, rocking his hips over Drifter’s thigh, making these pathetic little sounds.  Drifter laughs at the sight of it—Shin Malphur, rutting against him, moaning like it’s the best thing anyone’s ever done for him, like he could come from just this.  After biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, Shin breaks the kiss to pant and groan against Drifter’s shoulder, hips never stopping their jerky rhythm.

Shin keeps it like that for a bit, and Drifter lets him, until he draws back, still out of breath, and watches Drifter through hooded eyes.

“What, you done dry humping my leg?” Drifter teases, getting a kick out of the sour look that gets him.  “This is all you, hotshot. How do ya want it?”

Shin wets his lips, considering his options, still rocking his hips ever so slightly over Drifter’s thigh.  “On your knees,” Shin finally decides, voice rough.

Drifter raises an eyebrow, smirks, and slides down to his knees without further delay, pushing Shin against the other wall of the narrow service corridor.  He makes quick work of Shin’s belts and pants, getting them down enough to pull Shin’s hard dick out.

Drifter looks up at Shin, relishing in the way Shin looks down at him, irritated but still wanting it, and Drifter shakes his head before running his tongue over the length of Shin’s dick, leaving little kisses along the way just to tease him.

Shin thumps his head against the wall and groans; his hand grabs what it can of short black hair.  It never fails to get Drifter going—the way Shin’s trembling, so _needy_ for it.  Drifter gets his lips over the tip of Shin’s dick, swirling his tongue around, sucking, and Shin groans _fuck_ from the back of his throat.  The hand in his hair tugs _hard_ , hard enough to bring pricks of tears to the corner of his eyes, and Drifter takes it as both praise and a cue to take more.

When Drifter dips his head down to take the length of Shin’s dick in his mouth, Shin groans again, shaky and desperate.  He can feel Shin’s hips twitch, like he wants nothing more than to grind himself down his throat.  Heat settles low in Drifter’s stomach as he glances up and Shin’s looking down at him, lips parted, breath ragged.

Knowing that Shin’ll be pissed, Drifter pulls off to breathe, lips brushing the tip of Shin’s dick.  The look in Shin’s eyes would be enough to kill if it weren’t for the hazy lust clouding his expression.  Shin’s focused attention is only getting him harder the longer he glares at him.

“Damn, Shin—you eager for it or what?” Drifter breathes, warm breath washing over Shin’s dick.  He backs away a bit, starts working on his own belts, gets his pants down enough to pull his dick out into the open air.  “You always get like this after you’re shot at?”  He licks one hand and wraps it around himself while the other hand wraps around Shin’s length.  Drifter works their cocks fast and hard, and Shin looks like he was about to say something, complain, but the way Drifter’s working his dick renders him back to a shivering mess.

Drifter gets his mouth back on Shin’s dick, moaning around him.  He wishes his mouth wasn’t occupied so he could run it some more— _could barely keep your mind off it long enough to get here, huh? Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me suckin’ you off in some dark corner of a Ketch?—_ but then he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the way Shin’s whole body shivers as he moves his head up and down, wouldn’t be able to hear the needy sounds falling from Shin’s lips as he rocked his hips into Drifter’s mouth, wouldn’t have the opportunity to moan around the dick in his mouth in response to Shin’s quiet plea of _fuck, don’t stop._

Shin curls over Drifter and his fingers squeeze tight in his hair as he comes with a long, shuddering moan, holding Drifter’s head in place as he swallows it all down.  When it’s over, Drifter pulls off, braces a hand against the wall and rests his head against Shin’s thigh as he speeds up the pace between his own legs.  He’s almost there, so damn _close_ , panting and groaning into Shin’s thigh as he works himself breathless.  It’s Shin’s murmured _fuck, Drift_ and the fingers turned gentle in his hair that end up pushing him over the edge, surprisingly enough, coming hard over his fist with a broken sound in his throat.

Drifter stays like that until he catches his damn breath, still panting against Shin’s leg.  Shin seems like he’s in the same place, having not made any move to right his clothes after Drifter finished, just breathing heavy with his head back against the wall.

When he’s caught his breath, Drifter looks up, sly.  “Satisfied?” he asks in a smug tone, running his hands up and down Shin’s still-shaky thighs.

It’s a moment before Shin responds.  “Forgot how good you are at that,” he says, quietly, almost as if he wasn’t expecting Drifter to hear him.  His voice’s got the barest touch of resentment in it (could just be him, expecting Shin to go back to his normal standoffish self), but his fingers are still running soft through Drifter’s hair, smoothing it back into place with careful fingers.  For an instant, Drifter wonders why—but quickly determines that’s  _not_ what he wants to be thinking about right now.

Instead, Drifter quips, “Can’t have that now, can we?” and starts to get himself back to rights; standing up, fastening pants, buckling up belts, picking up tossed-aside weapons.  It’s not often that Shin pays him compliments—and it’s always a pleasant surprise when he does.

“You ready?” asks Drifter, voice still rough, once he’s got himself together, looking mostly unfrazzled besides his spit-slick lips, still bleeding a little from his bottom lip.  Shin’s got his helmet back on, but he’s still sagged against the wall, breathing sorta hard; otherwise, he looks like he’s ready.  He nods, draws his cannon, checks the adjacent hallways for any Fallen.

“Lead the way then,” Drifter says, readying his Trust.  Shin still seems distracted as he leads them out of the Ketch, taking them through vents, squeezing through half-open doors, making their way through pitch-black corridors. 

They don’t speak to each other as they make their way out—Shin seems like he’s actively trying to ignore what just happened, which is normal, he supposes—and the only sounds they hear are their own footfalls and distant Fallen chatter in the ramshackle ruins of this old Ketch, alone with each other and their own thoughts.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! <3


End file.
